


The Right Thing to Do

by china_shop



Category: White Collar
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>El could be walking into a trap. (Set during 1.07.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Thing to Do

**Author's Note:**

> For wc_rewatch. Thanks to mergatrude for beta. <3 <3 <3

El got off the subway and headed to the exit, her brain spinning. She might be walking into a trap: Neal was on his third strike, he had a lot to lose, and Peter would be justifiably incensed if El allowed herself to be taken hostage.

On the other hand, he wouldn’t have let Neal out of prison in the first place if he were dangerous, and Neal had sounded truly desperate on the phone. She wanted to hear him out. Worst case scenario, she’d listen to his side of the story and then deliver him into the waiting hands of the FBI. 

Best case, they’d find out what was really going on, because fancy pink diamond or no, El was positive that if Neal had found a way to hack his anklet, he wouldn’t have wasted his freedom going after jewelry; he’d have been too busy turning the city upside-down in his search for Kate. So unless Kate had a previously undocumented penchant for priceless gems, Neal was innocent this time, even if Peter couldn’t see it. 

Maybe Meilin from Interpol had framed him in retaliation for screwing up her play for that Chinese money launderer. 

El was so absorbed in speculation, she barely registered the black-clad figure detaching himself from a shadowy corner of the subway station, until he fell into step beside her.

“You came.”

“I thought we were meeting at the house.” In her pocket, she tightened her grip on her phone. Peter was number one on her speed-dial.

“Change of plan,” said Neal. “There’s agents sitting on your house.”

“Looking for you.” They exchanged sideways glances. Neal was pale and drawn, she could tell that much despite his dark glasses and low-angled hat. She bet there were rings under his eyes too. They were both taking a risk, meeting like this. “I didn’t know about the surveillance. Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better.”

A thread of tension clipped his response, and El softened. He was so lost: she wanted to feed him soup and make everything all right. More importantly, she wanted to make Peter listen to him. But only Neal could do that. “I hope you’ve got something good.”

“Ten minutes in your house, and then you can turn me in yourself if you think it’s the right thing to do.”

“It’s the legal thing to do,” El pointed out. He had to know what bending the rules like this could cost her.

Neal took off his shades and met her eye. “You and I both know those aren’t always the same.”

He looked even more tired than she’d thought. Cornered. She touched his arm involuntarily, knowing he was a con artist, this could all be a scam, but wanting to believe. For Peter’s sake. It would hurt Peter if Neal went back to prison for good. He was so invested.

Neal’s gaze was dark with sincerity. “There’s something in your house I need to show you. Something Peter needs to see.”

He might be buying time, El had no idea what his plan was, but she couldn’t resist that beseeching look. “I’ve come this far. But how are we going to smuggle you into the house?”

“You won’t regret this, I promise.” Neal visibly relaxed. 

El rolled her eyes. “We’ll see. For now—I baked some chocolate chip cookies last night.”

He caught on quickly. “Perfect. I’ll go around the back. Five minutes?”

“Five minutes.” El checked her watch and nodded. Neal started to turn away, to melt back into the surroundings, but she caught his arm. “Neal?”

He turned back, eyebrows going up in query.

She swallowed her fears and concerns. She could hardly blurt out, _Don’t break my husband’s heart._ And besides, they were already beyond that. “Be careful,” she said instead.

But maybe he heard her anyway. He took her hand, squeezed it lightly and let go. “You too.”

And then he was gone, leaving El with the slightly hysterical sense that she’d just been recruited as a double agent. Clearly, the only solution for that was to enlist Peter as well. She straightened her shoulders and mentally prepared herself to create a diversion. Milk and cookies, and—what was Peter’s favorite phrase? Oh yes, plausible deniability. 

 

END


End file.
